by Chris Cannon
“I don’t know why people in this town are such uptight drivers.”
I want my car back. Now. I don’t care what is painted on the side of it.
Jane pulled into a parking space and slammed on the breaks. “Come on.”
Heart in my throat, I checked to see what we’d risked our lives for. “Goodwill? Are you serious?” I had only shopped here before, by myself, on weeknights when no one else was in the store.
“You know those new jeans I wore last week?” Jane climbed out of the car while talking. “Guess where they came from? My mom is on a reduce-reuse-recycle kick.”
“How does that apply to clothes? New clothes are still made.” Inside the store the harsh fluorescent lights made my eyes water.
“Who knows?” Jane headed for a rack of blouses. “Shopping here is fun. It’s like hunting for buried treasure.” She sorted through the rack checking sizes and then held up an aqua top made of flowing fabric with a low V neckline.
“That’s not me,” I said.
“Maybe it could be the new you.”
“What the heck.” I grabbed a few more tops outside my comfort zone. “I’m trying these on.”
In the dressing room, I stared at my reflection. The aqua top brought out my eyes and clung to my small curves making them more noticeable. It was way more girlie than anything I owned. Not sure of myself, I modeled the blouse for Jane.
“What do you think?”
“I like it. You look more feminine.”
“I like turtlenecks and T-shirts.” I checked myself in the mirror. “But I also like this.”
By the time we left the store I had four new tops, a new sweater, two new pairs of jeans, a short skirt, and a shot of self-confidence. All for less than twenty bucks.
…
Haley
For the second day in a row, we joined my “boyfriend” and Jane’s wannabe love interest at their lockers. Nathan took it in stride. Bryce nodded like he accepted our presence but didn’t seem to even notice my new clothes. Maybe I should invest in a padded bra. Then again, what did a guy think if he dated a girl who wore one of those? Was it false advertising? Were they disappointed when they figured out their girlfriend wasn’t as curvy as they thought? Or were they just happy that the bra was off?
“Earth to Haley.” Bryce snapped his fingers in front of my face.
I jerked backward. “What? Sorry. Sometimes my brain takes weird detours.”
“What were you thinking about?”
Should I tell him? “It’s personal. What were you saying?”
“I said, what’s going on with your car?”
Oh, that was nice. “I’m getting quotes for the insurance company.”
The bell for homeroom rang. Bryce walked me down the hall with his hand on my lower back. A few people took notice of our passage. Most people ignored us. That was a good sign.
At lunch Jane made a production of pulling a square container from her bag and opening it to reveal three regular-size cupcakes and one that had been cut in half. First, she held a cupcake toward Nathan. “Chocolate cake, white icing, no sprinkles.”
“Thank you.”
She passed a cupcake to me, set one in front of her own lunch bag, and then placed the half cupcake in front of Bryce.
“What’s this?” Bryce asked.
“You didn’t stick around to take Haley home. While it was for a worthy cause and you put forth some effort, your performance was not satisfactory.”
“That’s what she said,” Nathan deadpanned.
Caught off guard, I laughed.
Bryce glared at me.
“What? It was funny.”
“You think that’s funny?” He reached for my cupcake and took a giant bite of it.
“Hey.”
He grinned and shoved his half cupcake toward me. “What? It was funny.”
“I had no idea I was dating a cupcake thief.”
“I’m full of surprises.” He pulled a carryout container from his lunch bag, popped the lid to reveal spaghetti, and took a bite.
Yuck. “Do you have something against warm food?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you go heat it up in one of the microwaves?” I pointed toward several microwaves set against the far wall.
“Have you ever looked inside one of those microwaves? They’re disgusting.”
Bryce’s lunch bag, his container of spaghetti, and his napkin sat parallel to each other at right angles and equal distances apart. Testing a theory, I bumped my lunch bag against the edge of his container so it was out of alignment. He pushed it back into place.
I opened my soda, brushing my hand against his lunch bag, knocking it askew. He straightened it. Did he realize what he was doing? Going for the obvious, I pushed his container until it sat diagonally on the table.
“Knock it off or I’m stealing what’s left of your cupcake.” He straightened the container, keeping one hand on it to hold it in its assigned area.
I chuckled. “Someone is a neat freak.”
“I am not.” He pulled his container closer. “I like things to be a certain way.”
“You should see his room.” Nathan removed the wrapper from his cupcake. “His books are shelved in alphabetical order.”
“So says the guy who insists the maid iron his boxers,” Bryce replied.
Jane choked on her cupcake. Whether it was the idea of Nathan in his boxers, or the fact that they were ironed, I wasn’t sure.
“So you’re both neat freaks?” I asked.
Bryce pointed his fork at me. “Your room is a complete mess, isn’t it?”
“No.” I pictured my room with books stacked two deep on the bookshelves in random order and dog fur tumbleweeds in the corners. “It’s comfortable and sort of furry. With two dogs, a cat, and a bunny it’s impossible to keep up with all the fur. I like to think of it as extra insulation.”
“Do the cat and the rabbit have all their legs?” Bryce asked. “Because that would go against the norm.”
“Unlike Ford and Chevy, they do. But, the cat is missing an eye and the bunny is missing an ear.”
“More hard-luck cases you fostered and became attached to?” Bryce asked.
“Yes.” I nudged Bryce’s lunch bag. “What about you? Have you ever had a pet?”
He fake glared at me and pushed his lunch bag back. “No.”
“There are so many wonderful cats and dogs at the shelter. I—”
“No,” he said before I could finish.
“Fine. Life is happier when you have the unconditional love of a pet.” I unpacked my turkey sandwich.
Bryce pointed at my lunch. “Why do you eat the same thing every day?”
“My brothers are like locusts. Turkey is the one lunch meat they don’t eat.”
Chapter Six
Bryce
After lunch, I walked Haley to class since we were headed the same way. Not like I really minded. She’d traded in the shapeless sweatshirt for a hippy-chick blouse, and she seemed more confident. As we walked across campus, other guys checked her out. What did they think they were doing? Even if Haley and I weren’t really together, they didn’t know that. I moved in closer and put my hand on her lower back.
When we reached her class, she turned and faced me. I didn’t drop my hand, so it ended up resting on her right hip. She smiled up at me, like she didn’t mind.
“Can you please give me a ride to the animal shelter tonight?”
“Why go tonight when you went last night?”
“I feed the animals a few nights a week. It will be a short visit, I promise. Give me half an hour of your life. It’ll be fun.”
If it were any other girl, “It will be fun” would mean some type of hookup. Since it was Haley, she probably planned to give me a box of kittens. She looked so… hopeful…and cute…and I didn’t have anywhere else to be. “Sure.”
She grinned like I’d given her a Rolex. Funny, how easy it was to make her happy compared to girls
I’d dated in the past.
“Thank you.” She entered her classroom.
Nathan cleared his throat. I turned to see my supposed best friend smirking at me.
“Oh, shut up.” I headed for class. This didn’t mean anything. It had nothing to do with the way Haley’s eyes lit up when she was around animals. To anyone else it would look like I was being a good boyfriend, and it should continue to keep Haley’s brothers and Brittney off my back.
“I think you’ll receive a whole cupcake tomorrow.” Nathan fell in line beside me.
“What is it with those cupcakes?”
“I like cupcakes.” Nathan walked around a group of gossiping girls. “Tomorrow she’s bringing chocolate with chocolate-coconut icing.”
I didn’t get it. “That’s the weirdest way to flirt I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s unique. I appreciate someone who thinks differently.” We entered the classroom and took our usual seats in the back. Nathan drummed his fingers on the desk. “I wanted to ask you something. Do you think she’s doing that icing thing on purpose?”
“What icing thing?”
“Jane, at lunch. Twice now she’s licked icing off her lips.” He ran his hand through his hair. “If she were Brittney—”
“God forbid.”
“You know what I mean, if she were like any other girl, I’d think she planned it. But with her…”
“I know.” I repeated the conversation with Haley and my theory about “It will be fun.”
“So you’re getting kittens, and I’m getting cupcakes.” He scratched his chin. “I think I’m getting the better end of this deal.”
After the last bell, I shelved my books in my locker, in alphabetical order because I like them that way, and waited for Haley to come find me. We never said where we’d meet, but this seemed the obvious choice.
“Hello, Bryce.” A familiar feminine voice said, “We need to talk.”
Brittney. “What do you want?”
She leaned against the locker next to mine. Her impressive cleavage squeezed up and almost out of her low-cut red shirt. “I miss you.” She slid her fingers through the belt loop above my pocket. “You should stop by my house after school. No one else will be home. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves.”
This was the problem with Brittney; she could manipulate me into doing what she wanted by using sex. And being a guy, most of the time, I had fallen for it. At first, the payoff had been worth it. Then the clinginess had set in and she’d started talking about where she wanted to get married and how many kids she thought we should have. She seemed borderline obsessed.
“Brittney, this isn’t going to happen.” I put my hand on her shoulder and stepped away, breaking bodily contact.
…
I had to stop myself from skipping down the hall to Bryce’s locker. Just because he’d agreed to take me to the shelter and stay for half an hour didn’t mean he was the perfect guy for me. Still, it was a step in the right direction.
I rounded the corner into his hall and the sight of Brittney groping him made me grind my teeth. She had defaced my car and here Bryce was being all chatty with her in the hall. People who’d been staring at Brittney and Bryce laughed when they recognized me.
What was he doing? He was supposed to pretend to be my boyfriend and stop people from talking trash about me, not create more gossip-worthy drama. And I refused to look like a doormat. Time to play my part as the pissed-off girlfriend. At this point, it wasn’t hard to fake. “Get your hands off my boyfriend.”
Brittney dropped her hand from Bryce’s waist. At least he had the decency to look guilty.
I shot Bryce a death glare. “Let’s go.”
I turned my back on them and stalked down the hall. Would he follow me? I wasn’t sure. Why would he follow me when Brittney was grabbing at his pants? Because he said he would. Because if he didn’t, I’d sic my brothers on him. We’d see how much she wanted him when he needed radical reconstructive surgery.
Maybe it was my imagination, but every person I passed whispered and pointed. Did gossip travel at light speed in this stupid school, or what? Trying to maintain my dignity, I slowed my pace. Too soon, I reached the parking lot.
Now what?
Where had Bryce parked his car? Given his I-like-everything-a-certain-way tendencies, I bet he parked in the same area every day. Making my way to where he’d parked before, I was rewarded for my deductive skills. His shiny black Mustang sat in the same exact spot.
Did I wait, assuming he’d show? Here I stood, like a fool, waiting for a guy who might have forgotten all about me. Frustrated, I kicked his right front tire as hard as I could while fantasizing it was his head.
Shit!
My foot throbbed. How could a stupid tire be so hard? It was made of rubber. I hopped in a circle on one foot until my back came to rest against his car.
This was great. My fake boyfriend was being mauled by his ex, I was the object of more gossip, and to top off the day, I’d broken my foot.
Bryce stalked toward me. When he was close enough, he opened his mouth to talk and then glanced around at the people who’d stopped to watch our drama play out. “Let’s talk about this in the car.”
“Fine.” I waited until he’d rounded the car to get in so he wouldn’t see me limp.
He started the engine, and we drove in silence, past the watching students out onto the main road.
I waited for him to say something, anything that would make me feel less angry.
“There’s no real reason for you to be upset.”
Not what I wanted to hear. “I have every reason to be upset. Your performance back there with Brittney guarantees another tidal wave of gossip. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re supposed to quiet the rumors about me, not start more.”
The car slowed and we stopped for a red light.
“Brittney ambushed me and—”
“Right. She snuck up on you with her giant boobs and you were helpless to defend yourself.”
“Well…yes, but I told her I wasn’t interested. I’m the one who moved away from her.”
The power Brittney had over Bryce… Would I ever have that kind of power over any guy? Probably not. I was short and had the figure of a twelve-year-old boy. I slid lower in my seat. “I’d appreciate it if you could avoid girls groping you in the hallway for the duration of our deal.”
“I’ll work on that.”
He said it like he was trying to make a joke. I didn’t think it was funny. Resentment toward him and every guy like him who made me feel invisible welled up inside me. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and said what was on my mind. “I kind of hate you right now.”
“Overreact much?”
“How would you feel if the entire school saw your girlfriend with someone else?”
“I’d be mad. I’d break up with her.”
“Of course you would, but in this scenario I can’t break up with you yet because if I break up with you too soon, then I’m still the skank who hooked up with you after the bonfire. If I don’t break up with you, I’m the girl dating the guy who cheats on her in front of the entire school. Which would you choose?”
“Brittney came on to me. I was the innocent party in this situation. I understand you’re mad because it looked bad and people will talk about it, but there isn’t much I can do about it.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples trying to head off the headache I could feel coming on.
I felt the car turn. We couldn’t be at the turnoff yet. I opened my eyes. “This isn’t the right way.”
“We’re making a side trip.” He drove to one of the main strip malls and stopped outside of a big chain pet store where we sometimes took our pets for adoption days.
“I don’t need more animals.”
“I’m trying to do something nice. Play along.” He climbed out of the car.
“Yeah, cause that worked out great for me last time.” I followed him inside. He walked over to a display o
f gift cards, picked one, and paid for it. He grabbed a cart on his way back and then offered me both items.
It was a hundred-dollar gift card.
“I thought you could buy some things for the animals at the shelter.”
Was this an attempt to buy my forgiveness? If so, for the animals, I’d bite. “Thank you.”
He nodded.
For the next twenty minutes, I went crazy picking out catnip mice, long-lasting chew bones, and scratching posts. By the time we checked out, I’d gone over my hundred-dollar limit by six dollars and thirty-two cents.
I looked at Bryce. “Can I borrow six dollars and thirty-two cents?”
…
When we reached the shelter, he slowed the car to a crawl and headed toward the back of the building.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“You said the back lot wasn’t as bad.”
Okay. I had said that but it had been a total fabrication meant to get back at him for not talking to me on the drive over. “The Dumpster for the animal waste is back there.”
He whipped the wheel around and headed toward the front door, coming to a stop in front of a small crater. After looking right, left, forward, and behind, he sighed and put the car in park.
“Good choice.” I grabbed the bags of toys from the backseat and headed inside, assuming he’d follow. I used my key to unlock the door. He sat in the Mustang. “Get over here, or I’m going to set a box of kittens loose in your car.”
I was mobbed, as usual when I entered the front room, so I headed for the couch and petted every animal in reach. The door creaked open. Bryce stepped into the room and lurched forward, catching himself on the wall.
“Careful. Don’t step on them. They like to wind between your ankles.” I pointed at the two cats doing figure eights around his khakis. The brown color of the fabric became mottled with black and blond fur.
“Right, I wouldn’t want to hurt them.” He searched the room as if he were looking for an animal free zone. “Is there a safe place to sit?”
I patted the fur-covered couch cushion beside me. “This is it. All you have to watch out for is fur. The cats are all fixed and litter-box trained.”
Looking at the couch with suspicion, he shuffled forward and sat on the edge. “I’ll regret asking this, but what does being fixed have to do with it?”
